The Orange Sun

Do you also take pictures of the sky when it’s painted in pretty colors? My photo gallery is full of such pictures. I can’t get enough when the sky is a mood. A vibrant one, one that I love, one that makes me feel warm and fuzzy, courtesy—the sun. My grandpa said that you should look at the rising and the setting sun. I get it now.

Life has become such that I’ve somehow become a part of the daily hustle-bustle. Wake up, freshen up, take a shower, do not forget to breathe in the fresh morning air, and strut out of my house with my backpack. As I’m rushing to the train station, I see the sky is a beautiful shade of orange, and the artist is on the canvas itself—glowing, looking at me. I look back and think to myself that life isn’t that bad after all. The morning rush begins a little past 8 am, so I board the train earlier. As we are all moving to the beats of the train compartment, I see many faces. Some are snoozy, some are asleep, some are lost in their thoughts, some are already clocked in at work, some are on autopilot, and some, well, like me, are observing. They all have a story of their own. And I’m a part of those stories, albeit in the background. My station arrives, and then I’m a part of more stories, where, just like me, people are rushing to catch a rickshaw to work. As I reach my office, my life changes colors from that beautiful orange to a dull white.

An okay-ish day has passed at work, and now I’m wrapping things up to leave. My life is back to that vibrant orange. As I’m happily rushing back home, I reach the metro station, and as I reach the platform, I look up, and there he is—my beautiful orange companion if you will, exuding a pleasant orange tint in the sky. I now find myself again in the rush. The train is crowded, and everyone wants to get on it despite the push and pull. Everybody wants to get back home even if it means getting crumpled. I see those faces again, but they all have a common expression now—the day was done. As I reach my destination, I see the orange sun has made peace with the day and surrendered to its destiny.

The orange sun—he too starts his day in the morning, does his best, and as the sky takes its course, just like time, the orange sun wraps up and begins his journey back home. He has become my companion now—my first hello and my last goodbye.